


Inside Out, Upside Down

by Frostberry



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 11:21:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18570409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frostberry/pseuds/Frostberry
Summary: As the Winterfell crypts burst alive with the Stark skeletons, Tyrion is the only one left. He remains at the highest point of the tallest tower. Pod comes to give him some bad news.





	Inside Out, Upside Down

**Uʍop ǝpᴉsd∩, Inside Out**

Death had already come to Winterfell. 

The crypts, once full of Stark skeletons, burst open like crazed ants waiting for the rains. They devoured those inside, turning women and children against those left in Winterfell. Pod saw that Tyrion make it out alive, hiding underneath Ned Stark’s statue when it happened. Nobody left was in Winterfell, except for him. His shadow was the only thing illuminated. 

Pod hadn’t seen the dragons for days, the halls and rooms were all empty. Food made by the folk for the war was uneaten, soup frozen in its bowls in the wooden stand in the courtyard. He wasn’t sure exactly if anyone he knew was alive out there now. The wheelchair next to the Weirwood Tree was empty. But that wasn’t the reason he was here. 

A wight, a heavy looking bastard with a spear, threw an accurate shot at Ser Brienne’s back and into Ser Jaime’s, both of them so close it almost looked like they were in an embrace. Ser Jaime’s nose touched hers, and when it was pulled out there was a loud shriek as both were turned into wights. 

“I still don’t think we’re going to die.” Tyrion remarked as Pod climbed up to the tower. The horse he came back on, he didn’t tie up, as it would have been the only one in existence for a thousand miles not. “I still believe I will die when I’m eighty, drinking wine and…” 

He paused. 

“Maybe if I’m a wight I will  _ look  _ like I’m eighty, drinking… whatever the Night King drinks. Fermented human wine with a Wight’s mouth around my cock.” 

“I prefer the other version.” said Pod, handing him the remains he needed to see: Jaime’s golden hand and Brienne’s Oathkeeper. “I had to kill her when she turned, you know.” 

Tyrion didn’t even look surprised. The death of his brother was something he couldn’t even believe anymore. The war had been silent since he escaped the pits. “You would have been the only one brave enough to do it.”

“You know me. I’m a wimp.” 

Tyrion sighed, looking up at the wintery sky. It had been a few days since the fighting began, and from the highest room in the tallest tower, he figured out that the White Walkers must have reanimated everyone who had ever lived north of Winterfell. It wasn’t in the thousands. Wights were in the  _ millions _ . 

“Pod, if you were a wimp, you would still be out fighting. Those prostitutes in King’s Landing would be so proud of you right now.” 


End file.
